A/N: So this weekend, I am taking my mom to lunch and then the ballet for her Mother's Day present. Since I will be busy Sunday, I decided to go ahead and post early. Next chapter will still come out on the Sunday, 6/18.

Thanks to Mrskroy, rachel olsen-williams, and every single reader. Chapter name is an apropos song title and its artist.

Warning: There are non-graphic references to self-harm in this chapter.

xXxXxXxXx Present Day xXxXxXxXx

There were many things I'd never told him, never told anyone. I was a vault locked tight, and long ago I'd thrown away the key. I lugged my secrets around with me like they were security blankets. They were my armor against the world, against forging connections or relationships beyond the superficial.

But he had expected more from me, wanted more from me – and I had always held him at bay.

For the longest time, I'd deluded myself into thinking that the masks we both wore made us equals – because he very clearly had skeletons of his own in the closets. His deceits took the form of open-faced dishonesties while mine were more subtle, lies of omission. But at the end of the day, I had to admit we weren't even close to being equals. Because while he'd lied to protect himself and his son, for self-preservation... I'd done it first and foremost to try to gain the upper hand.

Karma really had bitch-slapped me pretty hard over that one.

oOoOoOoOo Flashback oOoOoOoOo

Ezra followed me home the night we met. Followed me, not walked me home; the distinction was infinitely important – at least to me. He didn't know that I knew, that I could feel his presence in my mental net. I didn't intend to expose myself as a telepath so I let him have his delusions that he was being discrete. I didn't need to drop my shields and infiltrate his thoughts to know he was just concerned for my safety, and in fairness I'd already rejected his request to let him walk me home. In minutes, we'd gone from potential foe to maybe friend to definite stalker.

Lucky me?

Ezra had cringed when I shrugged off his concerns about my well-being; he practically insisted we visit the ER to let someone take a look at my ankle. I was staunchly against the idea – a record on repeat in my head playing one of many family mottos, 'Hardings don't go to the hospital.' There were many things I wouldn't be able to hide under a paper-thin hospital gown – like the yellowing finger bruises on my arms, or the purpled knuckle marks on my back, or the scabbed razor-thin cuts on my upper thighs. Some secrets were best kept covered and out of sight, even if it meant suffering some discomfort with each step I took for a couple days. Pain was no stranger in my life.

I limped along at a slow click, while Ezra stayed over one hundred feet back and in the shadows. I was pretty sure I hadn't broken my ankle, but it seemed pretty twisted up and sore – like maybe a sprain or something. I groaned internally thinking about how my mother and father would react to my injury when they found out. Mostly because if history informed the future, I knew they wouldn't take it well. I needed to patch myself up; they wouldn't care about what people couldn't see, what others couldn't comment on.

If a tree fell in the forest, and no one was around, did it make a sound? According to my parents, the answer was a firm and unyielding no; out of sight, out of mind – words to live by.

I stopped momentarily at a convenience store to purchase a box of band-aids, some antiseptic, and a cheap ankle brace. I paid with some waistband monies before exiting to slump down onto the curb, dropping the plastic bag beside me. I carefully picked the gravel out of my knees before sloshing alcohol over the shallow lacerations. I resisted the urge to cry out at the searing pain, squinting my eyes tight until it subsided. Discarding the paper bits in my bag, I applied not one, not two, but three band-aids before feeling satisfied that my wounds had been attended to, wouldn't get infected. I put on the ankle brace last, noting it was little more than a tight sock, slipping it under my actual sock to hide it.

Standing up, I shifted my full weight back and forth from foot to foot, glad to see that despite its dime-storey quality the brace actually functioned fairly well. Small mercies. I picked up the bag, shuffling my waistband items inside along with the leftovers from my makeshift first aid kit. It never hurt to have backup band-aids on hand in my household.

I jogged the rest of the way home after that.

I noticed that Ezra kept pace, still about a hundred feet behind, until I bounded up my driveway, at which point he practically disappeared. Next time I saw him I'd have to figure out what that was about, play a little mental espionage to pluck out his secrets. A girl's gotta guard herself against potential danger, right? At least that's what I told myself at the time.

I wanted to know what Ezra's thing was, why he'd approached some random girl in the night, and then followed her home without attacking her – me. I refused to trust his words or actions; those could easily be lies, as my father had shown me time and time again. I wanted to go straight to the heart of him, the source of any darkness – his thoughts. That's where people hid their true selves, that's where monsters got caged. That's where I could learn how to best them, beat them at their own game.

The house wasn't dark, but I still managed to sneak upstairs without detection.

I silently struggled with the doorknob to my room, pulling a bobby-pin from my hair to pop the lock. I gingerly opened and shut the door, re-engaging the button to barricade myself against the world. Then I finally released the breath I'd been holding, allowing myself to relax. I flashed the light quickly on, and then instantly off, as I spied my little sister Ginny tucked into my bed, already fast asleep. My sister only slept in my room when our father hurt her instead of me, and while I didn't know what had happened, I instantly regretted that I hadn't been home to protect her, to bear the brunt of his fickle fury.

Guilt washed over me, and I instinctively pressed my fingers into the wounds on my knees, allowing the tears that pricked in the corners of my eyes to fall without flicking them away. I told myself that I deserved to feel bad, that I needed to punish myself for failing her. My own form of self-flagellation complete, I showered and redressed my reopened cuts. Then I pulled on my softest flannel pajamas before climbing in beside my sister.

I hugged Ginny close and offered my tearful apologies, although I knew she wouldn't hear them, before turning away to drift into a fitful sleep.

oOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo

It still amazed me how hot North Texas nights could be, and how little could be done to abate the effects of the pervasive heat. But iced beverage in hand, I couldn't help but think, 'a girl has to try.'

I sat alone at a plastic picnic table, slurping my cherry ice loudly. Even though it did little to cool me down, I continued to suck at the sugary, frozen remnants with my red scoop straw. After devouring the final and unfulfilling gulp, I tossed the empty cup into the trashcan to my left. In my peripheral vision, I spotted Jeremy waving wildly from a ways away, motioning for me to come join him.

He'd been nice enough to pay for my ticket, even though our outing wasn't a date per se. It was more like a group thing – some his friends, some mine. Jeremy did have a crush on me, but he'd yet to try to act on it. I could tell he was working up the courage, which was cute since he was seventeen, almost two years older than me. I was debating whether or not I should make the first move. I liked him too; he was a pretty nice guy. Plus, he was tall, and tall was definitely my type.

I rose from my seat and started to move in Jeremy's direction, halting as I recognized a familiar voice shouting in my direction.

"Sookie! I was able to make it after all!"

Ezra exclaimed as he brushed past hordes of people to reach me, a large smile overtaking his countenance.

I smiled back, simultaneously stifling the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, he'd been able to make it; he was a vampire! I didn't know what all he did in his spare time, but I couldn't see why he wouldn't be able to ride the rollercoasters at Six Flags over Texas with me. He was slave to no master, for all I knew, and I was jealous as hell. He could do whatever he wanted! Who was gonna stop him? Nobody, that's who – or at least that's what I imagined.

I didn't exactly know for sure what Ezra's undead life was like.

It wasn't as if he had actually told me about him being a vampire directly – or out loud. My telepathy had extracted that piece of information over a year ago after Ezra showed up again while I was out for another run at White Rock Lake. While he passionately campaigned for me to pick a less physically exerting hobby, I lowered my mental shields to slip into his mind to learn the truth behind his request. I'd experienced a little more resistance than usual getting in, but sometimes the juice was worth the squeeze.

Like that time.

I chalked it up to a smart defensive strategy instead of an intrusion, especially since his thoughts switched without warning between English and some other language I'd never heard. It wasn't as if id stolen ALL his confidences; I knew there were a lot I'd missed.

Plus, I'd been relieved when I plucked his deepest, darkest secret from his mind; it meant I wasn't the only liar liar pants on fire, that we had something in common. It didn't bother me one bit that he was a vampire; it didn't mean he was a monster. I lived with a bona-fide monster, and honestly, if most vampires were like Ezra, they may as well have been kittens compared to my father.

"Ezra!"

I practically launched myself at him trying to get one of his famously withheld hugs. Even after a year of sporadic mindslipping, I still hadn't confirmed the crux of his whole 'not wanting to smell like me' issue, but I figured it was all the sweat. We usually ran together, once a week, and I was pretty sure I didn't smell like roses afterwards.

This time Ezra didn't sidestep me, and I wrapped my arms around him, stepping back after less than ten seconds to give him a soft smile. He returned the expression, and I couldn't help but wonder what his fangs looked like. Not that I'd ever ask to see them. I may have discovered his secret, but I wasn't keen to call him out on him – lest he try to uncover mine. Shivering at the thought, I unconsciously tugged my long sleeves down, even though they hadn't been pushed up, earning a quizzical look from Ezra.

Remembering Jeremy had been trying to get my attention too and not wanting to answer Ezra's unspoken question, I spun around to see my would-be suitor's face was crestfallen. I couldn't resist dropping my shields; I had to know what he was thinking.

He thought Ezra was... my boyfriend?!

Gross!

Not gross because he was a vampire, but because it wasn't like that between us. Ezra was like my brother! I really didn't want Jeremy to think they were in some kind of weird competition for my affections. So I grabbed Ezra by the hand, led him across the open area, and introduced the two of them.

Things went downhill pretty quickly after that.

Jeremy enclosed his hand around my upper arm, and wrenched me away from Ezra to express his displeasure at my friend's presence. My anger rose to epic levels; I suffered my father's physical aggressions, but it didn't mean I was gonna suffer anyone else's.

I detected a hint of possessiveness in Jeremy's tone I'd never noticed before as he whispered harshly, "Who the hell is this kid, Addy?! He's covered in tattoos, for Christ's sakes! What is he – a gang member?"

'No, he's a vampire who right about now is looking like he wants to rip your head off…' was what I wanted to say, but what I said instead was, "Stay the hell away from me and mine, Jeremy!" I shoved him hard with a force he didn't expect, "That guy is one of my best friends, and you're just some meathead asshole jock who needs to keep his freaking hands off me!"

The look of shock on his face was priceless. I stomped away from Jeremy and over to Ezra, turning back to make sure – absolutely sure – he wasn't confused about the meaning of my words.

"Just to be perfectly clear, from here on out – you are NOTHING to me. Don't talk to me, don't come near me… hell, don't even look at me!" I pulled some cash outta my fanny pack, and threw it on the ground, "Oh, and I didn't need you to buy my freaking ticket for what wasn't even a flipping date! Asshole."

Ezra was grinning ear to ear at the exchange, and I knew he'd heard every word, including how it had started.

"C'mon, Ezra," I said, taking his hand and leading him away from the doofus whose mouth was still agape, "Let's go ride some rollercoasters. They're terrifying and fun all at the same time; you're gonna love it!"

And he did.

We screamed our lungs out as the car whipped up and down the tracks, swirling around curves at speeds that had my stomach doing flip-flops. It was easily the most fun I'd had in years. Before we left, Ezra insisted on talking to Jeremy, and I decided to run to the bathroom for a bio-break. By the time I finished up, Ezra was done and ready to go. Honestly, I didn't know what he said, and I didn't ask, but whatever it was must've been truly frightening because Jeremy abided by all my previously set rules.

In fact, I never saw hide or hair of him again.

"Ezra!"

I shouted as I spotted him, concealed from view by the foliage off the paved path.

I'd been forced to hunt him down by his mental signature after I realized he wasn't in our usual meeting spot. I'd had to run almost a mile to find him! Why was he hiding from me when he knew I'd be showing up? We'd confirmed our plans to run the Katy Trail just the night before…

Of course, then blonde, tall, dark… pale as the moonlight also came into view –– and I had some inkling as to why Ezra would be obscuring himself.

Vampire stuff.

I threw my shields down instantly. I had no intentions of being polite by keeping my nose outta their business. I was running at a clip that would put me next to the unknown vampire in seconds, even if I did manage to slow my speed considerably, and I told myself I was just being cautious. I guess I could've just stayed back, but I wasn't exactly uneager to get close to said-stranger. He was hot, like supermodel on the cover of a magazine hot. I entertained fleeting 15-year old teenage girl, hubba-hubba aoooga fantasies about the blonde Adonis for about twelve seconds before he went and ruined it.

Ruined everything.

'Who the fuck does that smelly bloodbag think she is?!'

Lurch 2.0's thoughts assaulted my mind, and instantly boiled the blood in my veins. Who the hell did I think I was? Who the hell was he?!

"Hey!"

I panted out angrily, offended by his nasty thoughts but also trying to catch my breath.

Realizing my folly, that I'd almost exposed my gift, I turned to address Ezra. I refused to lay even one eye on the Andre the Giant wannabe, who apparently had decided I was about as worthwhile as the dirt beneath his shoes. He wasn't worth my time either, or my attentions.

"What are you doing all the way over here?"

"We," The Herman Munster-like goliath responded in a disdainful tone, smoke practically billowing out of his ears, "were having a private conversation."

What. An. Asshole.

Two could play this game, and I knew from my father that pretty boys hated it when people thought they looked older than they were. So I donned my most frightened expression and meekest tone before whispering not-so-quietly, "Is that your dad?"

'See how you like that, jerk' – I thought to myself.

He did not; he didn't like it one bit.

"I am NOT his father!" The not-so-Jolly Green Giant barked back through gritted teeth.

I loved it; his anger was cheerios to my milk. I felt satisfied almost instantly, but I still wanted to bait him, really put him through the ringer – I didn't know why; I just did.

"Huf-fy," I quipped back, punctuating my syllables and craning my neck up so that my eye roll would not go unnoticed by the unwanted Mr. Freakishly Tall. He may have had more than a foot on me, but I didn't care. Then I turned my back on him, rudely shutting him out, like he didn't matter one bit to me; because he didn't.

I faced Ezra, whose thoughts flitted unexpectedly through my mind.

'How to explain? He is my son, but also my fader and my broder…'

Brother… I glommed onto the word. That seemed like the most reasonable question to ask. It's not like I was ready to tell Ezra I knew he was a vampire, or that I'd figured out this guy was likely his vampire child.

"So who is this guy then? Is he like your brother?"

"Yes, Sookie," Ezra answered, "This is my brother… Eric."

"Well… y'all don't really look alike. That's why I got confused. I wasn't trying to be rude or anything…" I stepped back and spun on my feel to face Eric once more, throwing my hand out to shake his, "Nice to meet you, Eric. I'm Ezra's friend, Addy."

Eric refused to shake my hand, and he scowled at me! I was so confused – I was being nice! I'd even stopped referring to him as freakishly tall TV/movie characters in my head! I wanted to slap him, and then slap him again, but Ezra guided my hand down. He offered the most bullshit excuse I'd ever heard to explain why someone had behaved so rudely.

"He is not too keen on touch."

"Oh, well I guess that's something you've both got in common then," I groused, remembering the numerous attempted post-run hugs Ezra had sidestepped, "I can sort of see the resemblance now. You know, if I squint real hard, and tilt my head to the side like this…"

I stood on one foot, my view askance and off-kilter. Ezra most certainly did not look like the Scandinavian Frankenstein, but the conversation had turned uncomfortable, and the joker in me was coming out.

"Different fathers," Big-headed Bigfoot stated, without providing any context to encircle his few words, confuddling me to no end.

I stumbled as I shot up from my dramatic display, my mouth hanging open – catching flies, as my mother would have said.

"Huh?"

I said, ungracefully as I snapped out of my wild gesturing moment. The word just sorta slipped out, much to my chagrin. He'd caught me off guard, and I hadn't meant to respond.

"You said we do not look alike. We have different fathers – that is why, Sookie."

It really was a shame that someone so handsome could be such a jerk. He was so pleased with himself; I didn't have to lower my telepathic shields to see it. I was livid that he had called me 'Sookie' despite my request he call me 'Addy.' It was a jerk move at best, and I returned the offense in kind.

"Well Andrew…"

I renamed King Kong man, the skyscraper-reaching asshole, and I could see it irritated him. I loved watching him stew in his anger, something about it felt right to me. It could easily become my new favorite pastime if I got forced to suffer his indignities on a weekly basis.

'Disrespectful human, I rule Louisiana's Area Five…'

He thought as his face transformed from a blank slate to a fresh scowl.

I didn't know or care what it meant. But it answered an unspoken question, and also relieved my worries that Dallas-destroying Godzilla guy was here to stay. He may have been claiming to be Ezra's brother, but he was an out-of-towner through and through. He lived in Louisiana, and apparently, he had some fancy schmancy kind of job there, which meant he was definitely going back. Small mercies.

Despite his previous efforts to hold back his amusements, Ezra let out a full body chuckle as I said my not-so-friendly goodbyes. I wanted to hang out with Ezra, but Already-Been-Stretched Armstrong was grating on my last nerve.

"…it's been real, not real pleasant, but real just the same. Sorry to bother your private conversation. I'll see you around, Ezra, preferably once your brother goes out of town again."

I sprinted away in the direction of my house instead of waiting for my insults to land. I didn't wait to see Blondie Mc-Tallerson's reaction; I knew I'd gone off on a high note with my victory in hand.

As I bounded up my driveway, I couldn't help but think if I never saw that jerk again, it'd be too soon.

oOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo

"So, whatcha gonna do for spring break next week, Addy? Are your parents gonna let you go somewhere cool now that you're a senior? Mine said they'd let me tag along with you, if you went somewhere. They're still soooo worried all I'm gonna be doing otherwise is sitting at home alone..."

Katie said in between bites, chomping down on her lunch while obviating my view of her chewed up food with the back of her hand.

I held up a finger to indicate I needed a minute to finish off the last of my leftover meatloaf sandwich. I bobbed my head along as I gnashed through the remaining bits, swallowing dramatically and with much fanfare. Mouth agape, I stuck out my tongue for good measure, to prove there wasn't anything left, not one precious morsel. Katie laughed at my silliness; I was the cut-up, the clown. Jokes were a great way to deflect when confronted with uncomfortable conversations – like this one.

In truth, I wasn't even allowed to talk to Katie anymore, let alone bring her on a trip, as much as I may have wanted to. Her weight gain over the past couple of years had signaled my father's sudden disapproval. He seemed to think that people with a little pudge carried some airborne illness, and that if I stayed in close enough proximity, I'd be afflicted by it too. In his mind, being fat was worse than being ugly. Then truly no one would want me, and I'd be some kind of spinster he'd have to support for the rest of my life.

Of course, I hadn't actually dropped Katie as a friend, because I wasn't a heartless monster. But I couldn't risk my father finding that out, getting angry with me. Katie was making it tougher and tougher to keep our friendship under wraps, inviting me to things left and right. I had to keep making excuses why I couldn't go, and I could tell it upset her a little more each time, but I really didn't want to hurt her feelings by telling her the truth.

More secrets – I was swimming in them.

"Ummm… I dunno. My mom's making me go see my cousin in New Orleans; she said it's a family only kind of thing. Sorry, Katydid…"

It wasn't all untrue; I was going to New Orleans. But the cousin part was utter bullshit. I didn't have any relatives in Louisiana – but at least it sounded plausible.

"Oh…" she said sadly, "But you'll still get to have at least a little fun while you're out there, right?"

"Eh, let's say my chances are about 50-50. Hell, with odds like that maybe I should hit up a casino while I'm there."

I was seventeen; nobody was ever going to let me into a casino.

Katie laughed for longer than I would've expected considering my joke wasn't that funny. So I took a flourishing bow after standing up to discard my trash and head off to class. I slipped my backpack's straps over my shoulders and gave a hearty and emphatic wave goodbye, breathing out a heavy sigh of relief as soon as my back was turned.

She believed my lies, and our friendship was only slightly worse for the wear. But more importantly, my secrets were safe.

Crisis. Averted.

oOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo

I peered down at my city map, wondering how I had gotten turned around, so ass-backwards while sightseeing in New Orleans that I couldn't make heads or tails of my location. I was directionally-challenged; if I hadn't been certain of it before, today had proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Despite the setting sun, the street lights had yet to flicker on, which meant I couldn't read a damn thing on the laminated drawing before me. I wished there was a big "You are here" sticker to tell me where I was in relation to my hotel. But of course, my wish fell on deaf ears.

"Excuse me?"

I asked a couple passing by me carrying cloth bags, not noticing that they were bundled much more tightly than the weather would necessitate.

"Could you help me? I'm lost. I'm trying to get back to the French Quarter…"

"You're not too far away," The young blonde woman responded, interrupting me.

She looked maybe nineteen, only a couple of years older than me. Her face was fairly gaunt, and her eyes were sunken in. She trembled lightly as she threw her arm around my shoulder, leading me away from the main street as the guy trailed too closely for comfort behind me.

"C'mon, you can get back that way pretty quickly if you take this shortcut."

It all happened so quickly.

I dropped my shields, unnerved by her strange actions and wanting to determine her motivations, but it was too late. In seconds, her arm disappeared, and the guy shoved me hard, slamming my front into a brick wall. His elbow dug into my back, and he shoved my legs apart with his.

"Search her," He ordered the woman, before leaning in, his mouth inches from my ear, "Be a good girl now. Stay fucking quiet and you won't get hurt."

To punctuate his threat, he snaked his other hand around my neck. The woman patted me down like she was a security guard at the airport, touching me in places I'd rather not be touched – especially by a stranger. I strangled the cry that threatened to erupt from my throat; I wanted to be 'a good girl.' His thoughts were a drugged-up hazy jumble, but they were clear about one thing, he really didn't want to hurt me – all he wanted was my money.

"She's got some kind of pouch under her clothes; turn her around."

The woman said, earning a sharp glare from the guy. Apparently he fancied himself the alpha of the two, and he took his displeasure at her directive out on me. He released my throat and forcefully wrenched me around, pinning my shoulders against the wall with hands, caging me in. I considered kicking him in the nuts and running, but the knife I now saw in the woman's hand gave me pause.

In less than seconds, she tore her hands under my shirt and ripped my fanny pack from my waist. The bands burned at my skin as the clasp tore, and I yelped out in pain. He jumped back, startled, but she lunged forward, plunging the knife into my abdomen. Her eyes widened and her expression turned to shock.

'Oh shit!' She thought, 'Fuck, we're gonna get in so much fucking trouble. Shit!'

I cried out from the pain, and she drew the blade back, to strike again. It slipped into me like I was warm butter, and her thoughts turned murderous on a pin.

'Goddammit I can't believe I did that! I'm gonna hafta fucking kill her!'

"HADLEY!"

The guy screamed.

He grabbed Hadley's wrist, forcing her to drop the knife, and pulled her away from me. He bounded down the alley, with her in tow. She tried to match his strides as he dragged her along, but stumbled every so often. I watched them until they disappeared out of sight.

Blood seeped from my wounds, and I couldn't tell how badly I was hurt. Shock was settling in. I carefully and slowly removed my jacket, inching it down one arm and then the other. I was going to need something to press against my wounds until I could tend to them.

I hobbled further down the back alley, hoping beyond hope that they hadn't lied about it being a shortcut, that I was actually headed in the direction of my hotel. I clutched my jacket to my stomach to stanch the bleeding, thinking if I could just get a hold of a sewing needle, I could stitch myself up. Then it'd be like it never happened; I was sure of it. But that was nothing more than a silly pipe dream, and I'd yet to realize it because in truth I was becoming wildly delirious.

'Oh hell,' rang through my head as I stumbled upon Ezra's vampire child called brother, talking to someone I couldn't see. He didn't look a day older than the last time I'd seen him over two years ago, but of course neither did Ezra – why did he think I wouldn't notice that?

I took a hesitant step forwards and discovered the second conversationalist was a greasy black-haired man who was also as pale as a ghost – oh great, two vampires.

And here I was walking towards them, like a stuck pig on a platter – or a lamb being carried off to the slaughter. I turned with as much grace as I could muster – which was none – trying to stagger away in the direction I'd come from as if I'd never seen the towering behemoth of a bully. But he'd seen me – or at least smelled my blood.

'She is bleeding.'

His stray thought hit me like a freight train, and I realized that my stab wounds, and subsequent blood loss, were causing my shields to fail. Double great.

'She smells divine.'

The unknown vampire's unspoken utterance slithered like snakes through my mind, and I visibly shuddered in response. His mind's voice sounded ravenous, like he wanted to devour me whole, tear me to bits with his teeth. Maybe all vampires weren't like Ezra, weren't gentle and kind.

I redoubled my efforts to get away from the pair, surprised when Ezra's son appeared in front of me. The other vampire's mental signature was gone, and I couldn't help but feel relieved, even if I didn't understand how Mr. Hot-stuff Area-ruling Vampire had gotten him to leave.

'Apparently my snarkiness survived the attack,' I thought to myself.

What was his actual name again? Oh yeah… Eric.

Eric's blue eyes bore into mine as I stopped short in front of him, remembering from the first time we met that he didn't want to be touched by me. I understood it a little better now because I didn't want to be touched by him either.

"I'm okay," I gritted out with more effort than was belied by my tone or tempo, "I definitely don't need your help..."

I could feel the cool, wet blood seeping through my jacket. I tried to act like nothing out of the ordinary was happening as a small red spot began to bloom underneath my arm. Eric narrowed his eyes, none too pleased with me it seemed.

"You are not well, Sookie; you have been injured."

"I'll be fine, Drew."

I grumbled, slumping against the wall as black spots started to overtake my vision.

"You lie."

He shot back, raising an eyebrow and curling his top lip up, as if trying to tamp down a smile.

"All the time," I laughed, "But I've heard it doesn't count if it's for a good cause…"

I joked lightly as pain radiated through my form.

I pressed my arms against my wounds harder, not sure anymore if the pressure was actually slowing the flow, or if it was increasing it. I yelped as I sank towards the ground, my legs giving way beneath me as numbness cascaded through me. My butt didn't hit the concrete though, not that I had expected to feel the sting. Mostly all I could feel was cold.

Instead, I found myself cradled in my immortal enemy's lap and arms, peering into ocean blue orbs. I nuzzled my head into his chest. It wasn't for comfort; I just couldn't waste the energy reserves it took to hold it up any longer.

"You know you might be more trouble than you are worth."

He whispered into my hair.

He may have been kidding. I couldn't tell; I didn't care. My hearing was muffled and clouded, like my ears had been stuffed with cotton.

"Tell me about it."

I slurred back, drooling a little on his cornflower blue shirt.

It's the little things that get noticed at the end.

My mouth was no longer functioning at full capacity, and my eyes fluttered shut. It was like my body was powering down, and I felt sleep tugging at my mind. I remained still as he slowly peeled my arms off of my blood-soaked jacket, lifting it away from my deep lacerations. I could've sworn I heard his breath hitch in his throat, but that was crazy – I knew from my time with Ezra that vampires didn't breathe. Eric rubbed at the gouges a little, but there was no pain, only pressure. I didn't know what he was doing, but it made me feel a little bit better, like I wasn't dying so fast anymore.

Was that a bad sign? My guess was a resounding and unequivocal 'yes.'

"Addy… we are going to stand up now. I will try not to jostle you."

I was hallucinating; I was sure of it. He'd never deign to call me by my preferred name.

I grunted in response.

"I must take you to a hospital, before this damage becomes permanent. We have tarried here too long."

That I heard clear as a bell.

I couldn't go to the hospital. I'd have to explain – the scars, the bruises, everything. If I managed to live, my father would kill me once he got back from his work trip – or more likely, he'd kill us all. I wasn't going to risk my sister's life so I could have a few more measly days. Adrenaline flooded my body, and I struggled against Eric's hold, trying to get away – but to no avail. My voice returned twice as strong, and I screeched out my fears, but not their source.

"NO! Anything but that, Eric! Please, oh please DON'T take me to the hospital!"

A deluge of tears streamed down my face, and I chanted 'please, please don't' over and over until my voice became raspy and weak; it didn't take long. The adrenaline subsided quickly and agony grasped me in its clutches once again. Eric brushed his hand against my cheek, wiping away my slowing tears, and I noticed his skin felt warm against mine. The end was definitely close.

"Shhhh…" He whispered again, "You must calm yourself, Addy. Shhhh… I…"

'…do not want you die, min lilla faerie...'

He thought, as he finished aloud, "…can help, if you will let me…"

I ignored the strange pet name, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, my eyes still closed. We weren't in motion, so I imagined my impassioned speech had spurred him into inaction. But he also seemed to be proposing something else in lieu of a hospital visit, and I wasn't exactly ready to call it quits on life yet – someday maybe, but not today.

His face nuzzled my neck, and I felt his lips press against my skin.

"Bite me..."

I tried to whisper it into his chest, but it came out more like 'psst psst,' so quiet I figured he hadn't actually heard me. My body twitched as I gasped for breath, trying to say it once again, but this time no sounds came out. I could've sworn I heard a soft click close to my ears, but it was always possible I'd just imagined it.

I couldn't say what happened after that because darkness overtook me.